


Point Blank

by jennandanica



Series: Loaded [2]
Category: LOTR RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 02:07:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Co-authored by Maidazia on livejournal. The morning after the night before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Point Blank

And it's just a whisper as Elijah's head hits the pillow.

"I knew if I came here this would happen."

But he feels the words like a blow to the stomach.

Not sure he's even heard right -- but knowing all too well that he has -- Karl turns his head to stare at the creature lying beside him, asleep in his bed, passed out drunk after fucking him senseless.

Which apparently he had planned to do all along.

_Motherfucker_.

And there's a fire burning inside Karl's chest which threatens to consume him if he doesn't extinguish it. He considers yelling. Throwing something. Putting a fist through a wall. Likes the idea of picking up Elijah and dropping him on his arse outside the house.

But no.

Quietly, he leaves the bed and goes to the washroom where he runs the tap as hot as he can. Wets a washcloth and cleans himself with almost scalding water. Brushes his teeth.

Flicks off the bathroom light switch followed by the bedroom one, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. Walks to the side of the bed and pauses, leaning against the mattress. The thought of Elijah's skin on his own again so soon makes his chest ache. And his body has already betrayed him enough for one night.

Just the thought of the games that have been played out in this bed ties his stomach into knots so he draws the covers up over Elijah, the younger man not even stirring, retrieves his pajamas from the floor and exits the bedroom.

***

In the living room, Karl takes a seat on the couch, leaning back against the pillow he brought Elijah -minutes, days, weeks- only an hour before, pulling the blankets tightly around him. Elijah's last words are echoing through his head. And he can't even begin to make sense of what's happened. Stares up at the ceiling in the darkness.

He wonders how he could have let this whole situation get so out of hand. Shudders to think of the things he said, the way he let Elijah take him. Feels so very dirty. So very stupid. But can't help thinking how good it all felt. So unbelievably fucking good.

And he wonders how much of what happened here tonight can be blamed on the alcohol and how much of it is simply Elijah. Had Elijah meant that he knew they would fuck or that they would fuck _like that_? Had he meant it as horribly as it sounded? He just doesn't know.

He can't believe Elijah would want to hurt him. He can't believe Elijah would be that cruel. But it's so hard to figure out. All too fucked up to handle. And it really seems far easier to just give in to his exhaustion and sleep. So he does.

***

"Karl..."

Shaking.

"Karl..."

He's being shaken.

"Karl..."

He opens his eyes to find Elijah's face right in front of his. Bolts upright, smacking into Elijah.

"Fuck," Elijah says, rubbing his nose. "That hurt. Remind me not to try and wake you ever again."

And Karl's still trying to figure out where the hell he is. Slowly realizes he's on the couch. In the living room. Where he fell asleep after...

-oh god-

After last night.

"So..." Elijah says, leaning in and kissing him on the mouth. "What are you doing sleeping out here? I was worried when I woke up alone in your bed."

"I..." And he's not sure what to say. "I--"

"Did I hurt you?" Elijah asks, seeming genuinely concerned. "I didn't, did I? I know I was really drunk but I couldn't help it. I wanted you so badly."

"You didn't hurt me," he says, thinking _at least not the way you mean_.

"Was it good then?" Elijah asks, slipping onto the couch beside him, his body half covering Karl's. "I feel horrible. I just remember bits and pieces. But it was good, wasn't it?"

_Christ_.

And he doesn't seem to be able to make his brain function the way he wants.

"Yes," he says, blushing once again. "It was good."

"Just good? I'll have to make it up to you then, now that I'm sober," Elijah teases, kissing him softly on the mouth, stroking his nipples before sliding his hand down Karl's front and--

"Elijah!" Karl says, grabbing his hand.

"What?" And the little bugger is innocence personified.

Karl turns his head. Sees the clock on the VCR. Shit!

"We've got to be on set in an hour. At least, I do."

Elijah glances over his shoulder. "Crap. Yeah, me too."

"Well then, get off me. I need to shower. Grab yourself something to eat."

Elijah reluctantly stands and Karl pushes by him, refusing to meet his eyes.

***

Karl's barely turned the water on when the shower door opens, a sudden rush of cold air brushing his back, and Elijah slips in behind him.

"Elijah," he says, turning. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Elijah moves closer, pressing his naked body against Karl's. "You ask me that way too much," he says, running a finger along Karl's bottom lip. "Isn't it obvious?"

"That's not what I mean," Karl says, anger seeping into his voice. "You twist my words. You twist everything. Why can't anything be straightforward with you?"

"This is pretty straightforward," Elijah says, dropping to his knees in front of him. Just the sight of him kneeling there enough to make Karl instantly hard.

And before Karl can form any words, Elijah kisses his cock. Licks the tip of it. Licks into the slit and Karl bucks hard against his mouth. Elijah takes Karl's cock -- just the head -- into his mouth and sucks. Sucks gently and then harder. Pulls back and glances up at Karl, eyelashes fluttering, beaded with water. _So beautiful_. Still watching Karl, he strokes his tongue up and down the shaft. Licks around the head before taking the entire length into his mouth. Swallowing it. And

-fuck-

Karl is moaning, leaning his head back against the tiles, grasping Elijah's head in his hands. And he can feel Elijah relax his throat, pushing forward, urging Karl to fuck his mouth. So he does, hard, his cock nudging the back of Elijah's throat with each thrust, the friction unbelievable, absolutely unbearable. And -oh god- he's coming, he's coming, his body clenching again and again as he empties himself into Elijah's throat.

And Elijah swallows every last drop, licking him clean before getting back to his feet and pressing himself against Karl once more.

"Better?" he asks with a little smile.

"Better than what?"

"Better than how you were feeling a few minutes ago?"

"Elijah--"

But Elijah kisses him, wrapping his tongue around Karl's and Karl can taste himself on Elijah. Pulls the younger man to him.

Elijah rests his head against Karl's neck. "I want you, Karl. More than anything."

And once again, Karl's chest tightens. Christ. He has what he's wanted. What he's wanted for so very long.

But last night.

But _I knew if I came here this would happen_.

But nothing.

"I want you too."

***

Despite throwing clothes on still-damp bodies and eating breakfast in the car on the way to the set, Karl and Elijah are late. Karl pulls into a parking spot, takes the keys from the ignition and grabs his bag from the backseat before noticing that Elijah hasn't moved. He's sitting there, staring out the front window, hands clasped between his knees.

"Elijah?" Karl says but Elijah doesn't answer him.

Karl sits back, waiting for him to speak.

"I really should get my stuff from Orli's place," Elijah says finally, still not looking at him.

Karl nods. Elijah's not looking but he does it anyway. He thinks he knows where this is going but he's unsure of his answer and he doesn't want to commit himself just yet.

"I can talk to Dom and Billy about staying with them. Or Sean or Viggo," Elijah says, pausing, looking at Karl.

But Karl's silent. Waiting.

"I'm sure I can even get Peter to find me another place. If that's what you think I should do. I probably shouldn't have given my place up at all. And we can still... I mean, I completely understand that you might not want, you know, if you don't--"

"You can stay with me," Karl says, softly, chiding himself because, really, there was never any question of what his answer would be, never any doubt since the day he first laid eyes on Elijah that he would do anything, give anything, be anything, the other man wanted. "I want you to stay with me. I do."

And Elijah grins, his face lighting up like it's Christmas morning and he just found everything he's ever wanted under the tree. His joy is infectious and Karl finds himself grinning as well, his worries and misgivings brushed aside for the moment.

***

Karl's having a hell of a time keeping his mind on his lines. Miranda keeps glaring at him and he's pretty sure she's either going to kill him or castrate him if fucks up one more time. But he can't help it. Keeps thinking about last night.

_Don't do what? Tell you that I've missed you. That I've spent hours thinking of you. That when I'm with Orli, I imagine I'm with you._

Elijah.

_I'm going to fuck you, Karl. I'm going to fuck you so hard you'll come screaming my name, still begging for more._

The things he did.

_Don't do that._ Smacking him. _I want to look at you. I want to see your face while I'm fucking you._

The things he said.

_You're going to take my cock like a good boy. You're going to spread your legs and take it. Take my fucking cock. That's right. Again. And again. And again._

And of course

_I knew if I came here this would happen._

Christ. What exactly had he meant by that? He still hadn't summoned the courage to ask him. He still--

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Miranda asks, punching him hard on the arm.

"Sorry," Karl says, forcing himself back to the present. "I'm just really fucking tired."

Miranda smiles, eyes flashing. "Oh. And why's that?"

Karl flushes. Damned if he's telling her. Everyone will know within the hour. But she'll also know if he lies. She always does. "Elijah had a crisis. He ended up coming over and staying at my place."

"Oh, yes. Another fight with Orli," she says, and he wonders how the hell she finds this stuff out. "And why were you picked to be the knight in shining armour?" Suddenly looking him up and down. "Other than the obvious."

And okay, that's funny. So they both chuckle.

"_Another_ fight?" he asks, aiming for nonchalance.

"They argue like cats and dogs," she says. "At least that's what I hear. I don't think it means much though. Gives them a good excuse for make-up sex."

Karl turns his face away, certain she will be able to read the guilt-mixed-with-doubt-heaped-with-jealousy clearly written on his face.

"So again," she says. "Why you?"

"He stayed over another night when Orli took off," he says, still not looking at her. "Orli carries Elijah's keys when they go out because Elijah's always losing them. So I offered to let him stay at my place. Just for the one night. On the couch." And he should really just learn to shut up.

"Sure he did," Miranda teases. "Was the couch his choice or yours?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You," she says teasingly. "You're in love with Elijah."

"I am not," Karl says, looking at her now. "Where'd you get such a stupid idea?"

"From the way you follow him around like a puppy dog, tongue lolling and all that."

"You're imagining things," Karl insists. "You're just a gossiping cunt, Miranda. Making things up for the fun of it."

Miranda laughs. Stops suddenly and lays a soft gentle hand on Karl's shoulder, bringing her face closer to his. "Don't worry. I won't tell a soul. I mean it. I won't. And I really don't think anyone else has noticed."

And Karl just nods, not trusting himself to speak.

***

It's mid-afternoon before Peter informs the crews they can break for lunch. The noise in the canteen is deafening, everyone breaking at the same time such a rare occurrence. Karl is hoping he'll see Elijah. Needs to see him after last night. Needs to know that Elijah telling him this morning in the shower and in the car that he wants him, wants to stay with him, isn't simply one more part of a very bizarre, completely fucked-up dream.

And he catches sight of Elijah, feeling himself switch into full grin mode, ready to call his name, grab his attention when the group standing in front of Elijah suddenly disperses and Karl sees who Elijah is standing beside. Orli.

And -Christ-

He just can't seem to catch a break. Watches Elijah and Orli laughing together, Orli touching Elijah's shoulder and Elijah not making any move to pull away from his touch. Elijah leaning closer and whispering something in Orli's ear and Orli laughing again and sticking his tongue out at Elijah. Putting a hand out and stroking a finger along Elijah's jaw before placing it against his lips.

Karl swallows hard. Backs out of the canteen. Feels like his heart has been torn from his body. Can't believe he's allowed Elijah to play him for a fool -- to hurt him like this -- again. Doesn't know what he's going to do. But he's had it. He's not doing this anymore. Never again.

***

And the knocking has finally stopped. Karl strains to hear over the music blaring from the speakers in the living room just to be sure. Nothing. He sighs, throwing the wet sponge into the sink. If nothing else has come of this shitty evening, at least the house is spotless.

He had spent the remainder of the afternoon sleepwalking through his scenes, Peter finally throwing a fit and telling him if he was sick he needed to go the hell home. And he wasn't sick -- not the way Peter meant anyway -- but he had no problem pretending he was.

***

For the first hour, he had sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. Managed to do a pretty good job of not thinking. But then the knocking started. And the yelling. Elijah on the doorstep, pounding on the door, calling his name. He did his best to ignore it, finally getting up and closing the bedroom door, which succeeded in muffling the sound slightly.

Feeling incredibly foolish, he had tip-toed across the living room at one point, peeking out through the curtains to see if Elijah was leaving. But Elijah must have caught the movement, as he renewed his knocking with increased volume. "C'mon Karl. Let me in. What the hell's going on? Why won't you let me in?" He sounded genuinely concerned and Karl's resolve began to waver. He reached for the bolt. "Are you alright? Orli said you came home sick. What's wrong?"

Orli.

Karl's mind flooded with images of Elijah and Orli in the canteen. Orli touching Elijah's face. Elijah whispering in his ear.

Karl strode away from the door, grabbing the remote for the stereo. Pressed the volume button up, almost to the top, until it overwhelmed the sounds coming from the front steps. The sound of the pounding escalated, competing with the music. In response, Karl opened the hall closet, wrestling the vacuum from inside and set his mind to cleaning the house. Anything to keep his mind off Elijah outside his door.

***

"Ahem."

Karl whirls around, elbow catching the bottle of cleanser, knocking it to the floor. Elijah stands in the doorway, expression unreadable.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Karl demands.

"I broke the lock on your bathroom window," Elijah shrugs.

"You _what_?"

"You heard me. Now maybe you'll answer my question. What the fuck is going on?" He leans against the doorjamb, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Get out, Elijah. I am in no mood for this."

"Too bad." Something flashes across his face, but is gone before Karl can read it. "I'm staying, so I suggest you talk to me."

Karl stares at him wordlessly. Furious at himself for being even the slightest bit happy to see Elijah, he resolves not to do this. Ignores Elijah, turning to pick the sponge out of the sink and preparing to finish the dishes. His hand is on the tap when he feels Elijah grip his arm, spinning him around to face him. Karl can finally read the expression on Elijah's face this time. Anger. "Goddamnit Karl. Talk to me. What the hell is going on? You were fine when I saw you this morning and the next thing I know Peter's sending you home because you're sick."

"You heard this from Orli," Karl interrupts. He can taste the bitterness on the back of his tongue just saying the name.

"Yes, from Orli," Elijah says, paying no real attention to the comment. "So I come over here to check on you, to make sure you're okay, and you won't even answer the door? You locked me out. Why? If I remember correctly, you were the one that offered to let me stay here."

His grip on Karl's arm has gotten tighter and tighter through the entire tirade and he glances down, as if only noticing now that his hand is still there. He lets go and moves back, sitting down at the kitchen table. "I mean, what the fuck, Karl?" He rubs his fingertips over his eyes, looks back up at Karl, the anger draining out of his face. And now he just looks tired.

Karl is silent. He doesn't know what to say. He's still so pissed off, so confused and hurt by everything that's happened today, that he can't seem to form a coherent thought much less a full sentence. He watches Elijah, who's begun worrying at one of his ragged fingernails, waiting for Karl to say something. _Tough, he can keep waiting._

And something in Karl's expression must have changed, because Elijah slumps down in his chair, gaze on the floor, his posture suddenly one of defeat.

"I'm sorry I got so mad. I just..." he trails off, and Karl feels his heart contract as Elijah's eyes fill with tears. "You don't understand. After this morning, I thought you wanted me here and then I heard you were acting like something was wrong and that you left the set early, and you never leave the set early," he rambles on, blinking rapidly to hold back the flow of tears, his hands shaking. "So I came looking for you. Because I was worried. Because I was scared. Because I have no idea what is going on and I don't know if I did something, or if you decided this was all a mistake and you don't want me anymore, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do." He takes a deep shuddering breath and swallows hard. "And then I got here. And you wouldn't let me in. You locked me out." He looks up suddenly, catching Karl's eyes as the first teardrops slide down his cheeks. "Why did you lock me out?"

Karl turns back to the sink, both hands grasping the edge of the counter, knuckles white. He holds his breath, counting to ten, and lets it out. He's not sure what to do. It's driving him crazy that after all Elijah has put him through, he still wants him. Even when he knows he can't trust him. Even when he's finally admitting to himself that he doesn't know Elijah at all. And that the only thing he _does_ know is that he's tired of being the one getting hurt. He moves to face Elijah, who stares at him with red-rimmed eyes.

"What were you doing with Orli at lunch today?"

"What? I--" Elijah makes a small noise, confusion twisting his face.

"I said, what were you doing with Orli at lunch today?" He repeats slowly, carefully enunciating each word. "I saw you."

"Saw us what?"

"Don't play with me, Elijah. I saw the two of you together, laughing, touching, whispering. Call me stupid but I would have thought that, after last night, you'd want to stay away from him." Karl laughs bitterly. "Hell, after last night, I thought you wanted to be with me. But this is just a game to you, right?"

"Karl, I don't understand what you're saying. Of course I want to be--"

"Stop it, Elijah. Just drop the act. I've already heard about your little _fights_ with Orli. And you're good. So good you got me twice but I'm not willing to make it a third time. Now get out." He moves forward, grabbing Elijah by the elbow and pushing him towards the front door.

Elijah plants his feet, straining against Karl's grip. "Please, Karl. Let me explain."

Karl keeps pulling until he catches a glimpse of Elijah's face. Tears are flowing down his cheeks, staining his t-shirt as they run off his chin. _Fuck_. Karl pauses. "Fine. Give it your best shot," he says roughly, while at the same time, he feels the familiar ache in his chest and knows he's longing for an explanation that will put all of this right.

"There's nothing going on between Orli and me. I swear," Elijah says, rushing on in response to the look on Karl's face. "I mean it. Not after last night. I admit what you heard was probably true, but not anymore."

"What exactly does that mean?" Karl asks, loosening his grip on Elijah's arm slightly.

"It means that yeah, Orli and I used to fight just for the sake of making up, but it wasn't like that last night. Last night he really hurt me." He squirms a bit and Karl drops his arm altogether. "I meant everything I said to you."

"That still doesn't explain today." Karl steps away, bracing himself against the counter.

Elijah laughs, sounding frustrated. "Karl, we still have months to go on this shoot. I can't _not_ talk to him."

"But you don't have to be so cozy with him either, do you?" Karl grimaces at his tone. He hates sounding so needy and possessive.

Elijah sighs, runs a hand through his hair. "I know you don't like it, but as much as I would like to, I can't just cut him off."

Karl's eyes widen in disbelief. "You're going to keep seeing him?"

"No!" Elijah steps towards him, touches his fingertips to Karl's hand tentatively. Karl stares at him, waiting for him to finish. "I'm not going to see him anymore. Not like that. I couldn't." His eyes flash away, embarrassed, then back again. "But I can't not talk to him. If I just drop him, he'll--"

"He'll what?" Karl asks, moves his hand from beneath Elijah's, catches it before it flutters away. Curls his fingers around the smaller hand, squeezing slightly. "What would he do?"

Elijah shrugs. "I don't know but I'm afraid of him. I'm afraid he'd be angry." Pausing to amend his words. "I _know_ he'd be angry."

"He can't hurt you. Not here. Not with everyone else around. Not without risking his job."

"Oh, he wouldn't. Not like that." Elijah tugs his hand away, wrapping his arms around his own waist, hugging himself tightly. "He's too smart for that. But he'd terrorize me one way or another. Like I said, I _can't_ just stop talking to him." And the raw honesty on his face burns into Karl.

"Christ, Elijah. What am I supposed to say? I never know what you're thinking. And I don't know how much of this," he waves his hand, gesturing between them, "you take seriously."

Elijah doesn't say anything. Karl sighs. He doesn't want to keep doing this. He's tired. Tired of the games, the uncertainty, the ridiculousness of it all. He runs a hand over his face. Looks at Elijah standing there, looking like the most pitiful creature alive.

_Shit. Why do I know I'm going to regret this?_

"I can't talk about this anymore tonight. I'm worn out and you look like you feel the same. I know it's too late for you to find somewhere else to stay tonight, so you can just sleep here again." He holds up his hand as Elijah steps forward. "Alone. And I'm not kidding. I'm not playing around. I need to think things through and the last thing I need is you trying to crawl into my jeans. If you try it again, don't think you won't find yourself out on your arse. Am I getting through to you?"

Elijah nods, silent, eyes wide at the seriousness in Karl's voice. And Karl's feeling rather proud of himself. A little more in control of himself than he has in weeks. "Good. You can have my bed. I'll sleep on the couch. Pajamas are in the top dresser drawer. We'll talk some more tomorrow. I don't want to see you again until morning." Karl knows he sounds harsh, but he wants Elijah to know that he means it. He can stand here right now and hold onto his anger and irritation just fine but he doesn't know how strong his resolve would be if suddenly confronted with naked Elijah in the middle of the night.

Elijah nods again, steps forward quickly, brushing a soft kiss across Karl's cheek before disappearing down the hall. Karl sags against the counter, takes a deep breath and heads for the couch. It's going to be one long fucking night.

***

Karl wakes with the vague hint of a headache pressing behind his eyes. Groans, rolls onto his back and stretches, working out the kinks in his body caused by a second night on the couch. He opens his eyes and glances toward the hallway, wondering if his 'guest' is awake yet. He smiles, satisfied, thinking Elijah may finally be taking him seriously.

Karl had heard quiet footsteps coming down the hall a few times during the night but Elijah hadn't dared come into the living room. And at some point during the night, Karl had decided he cared too much for Elijah to simply let him go. He'd been surprised by Elijah's display of emotion in the kitchen. Had been forced to admit to himself that it wasn't really Elijah's fault that the Elijah living in his mind was not the one currently occupying his bedroom. Forced to admit that if they were going to have any hope of untangling the mess they'd worked themselves into, they'd have to actually get to know each other. And with that thought firmly in mind, Karl rolls himself off the couch, heading for the kitchen.

***

Carefully balancing two full cups of coffee, Karl pushes open the bedroom door. He pauses, catching sight of Elijah, who is sitting up against the headboard, knees pulled up to his chest, hands hidden in his lap. He looks up as Karl enters and smiles. His eyes are still red-rimmed and bloodshot, intensifying their already unnatural blueness, and the smile is tired, but looks genuine.

"I thought you might like some coffee," Karl says, holding out a mug.

"That's great. Thanks," Elijah says, unfolding and crawling to the end of the bed. Karl meets him there and Elijah takes the mug, wrapping his small hands around it. He takes a sip, eyes watching Karl over the edge.

"No need to look so apprehensive. I'm not going to kick you out before breakfast. I know how much you love to eat."

Elijah's expression turns cautiously hopeful. "You're not still mad at me?" He makes it a question.

Karl sighs, brings his hand up to brush lightly across Elijah's cheek. "No, I'm not still mad. But we have a lot we need to talk about." He moves around the bed, setting down his cup, and perches on the edge of the bed.

Elijah moves with him, resting his mug on the carpet. Crawls towards Karl, sliding a hand up his denim-clad thigh. "I'm so glad you're not angry. I never meant for that to happen. I just don't think sometimes. But I can make it up to you." His fingers continue their upward journey.

Karl clutches at Elijah's hand, barring its progress. "I said we need to _talk_."

"We will talk," Elijah says, moving closer, his free hand roaming up Karl's neck, into his hair. "But first--"

"Elijah. Stop it." Karl traps both hands in his own, holding him away from his body. "Christ, why are those the two words I seem to say to you more than anything else? We can just say to hell with this whole thing if the only reason you're here is to fuck me again."

Elijah recoils from the sharpness in Karl's voice. He pulls his hands away and curls them into his lap. "You think that's the only reason I'm here?" his voice small.

"Sometimes it seems like it. Sometimes it's hard to think it could be anything else," Karl says, needing to look away from Elijah, his face so pale and sad.

"That's not it. Karl, please believe me, that's not all it is." Wrapping his fingers around Karl's, squeezing lightly, urging Karl to look at him. "It's just that... well, that's the only way I know of showing you how I feel." He looks down at their interlaced fingers.

Karl can't help it, laughs. Elijah glances up quickly. "Coming from you of all people, I find that hard to believe."

Elijah's mouth twists into a rueful smile. "I can see why you would think that, but that's it. If someone else writes the words, I can say them and make you believe in them. But when it's just me," he pauses, shrugs. "I can't seem to make it come out right."

And this is exactly what Karl has been waiting to hear. Something that gives him insight into the person Elijah really is. He disentangles his hands from Elijah's and leans forward, wrapping his fingers around the smaller man's waist, pulling him onto his lap. Elijah stiffens slightly in surprise before relaxing into Karl's embrace. He tucks his face into Karl's neck and makes a small sound  
of contentment.

"Christ, Elijah, what am I going to go with you?" Karl sighs, tightening his arms around him.

"Are you taking suggestions?"

Karl laughs. "I'm guessing you have one?"

"Mm-hmm," Elijah nods.

"Well?"

"You could fuck me."

Karl freezes. His mind circles around the words and he can already feel the tightness in his jeans. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat as Elijah settles more firmly against him, pressing against the hardness.

"I know you want to." Elijah's breath is warm against his neck. He jumps slightly as Elijah licks his lips, the tip of his tongue making contact with his skin for one quickhot second. "I can _feel_ that it's what you want." Damp lips brush the underside of his chin.

Karl struggles for control, struggles to keep his hips from moving, to keep from pressing up -pressing in- pressing against Elijah's arse. He fights to get his thoughts back on track, but everything else in his mind is overwhelmed by the image of Elijah under him -around him- and

"Please Karl," a thread of desperation working its way through Elijah's words. "I want this. I _need_ this. I need you to show me how _you_ feel. I need you inside me." This last, no more than a shuddering breath.

And Elijah's soft plea is almost enough to send Karl over the edge. Heat floods through him at the idea that he's finally got what he wants, that he's no longer chasing Elijah, no longer waiting for whatever Elijah is willing give to him, willing to take from him. The idea that it's _his_ turn, that he's finally in control, that everything he wants is right here in front of him, open to him and

-god-

a shudder runs through his body, an ache settling in the middle of his chest, and

"Karl." His name no more than a breath. Elijah's face is tipped towards his and Karl's gaze traces the line of Elijah's lips, glimpses the red dampness in between and suddenly thought is no longer an option. Elijah is offering himself up like a prize and Karl's not about to refuse.

He pushes Elijah away, roughly, eliciting a squeak of disappointment, but it changes pitch, becomes a moan as he draws him forward again, so Elijah is straddling him, falling against his chest. Elijah melts against him, slides his arms around Karl's neck, moves his face closer, but holds, waits. Waits for Karl, letting Karl decide.

Karl doesn't hesitate, captures Elijah's mouth with his own, pressing his tongue inside, delving, licking, tasting. He grasps Elijah's hips, tighter, gripping, pulling him down, hard against him, and a low growl vibrates from Elijah's throat, filling Karl's mouth.

Karl gasps, draws back. He wants to go slow, wants to savour this, but the feel of Elijah, hot, hard, needing, pressing through the thin fabric of his pajamas, dissolves any control he thought he had. He slides his hands over Elijah's ribs, drawing his shirt up, over his head and off. Moves his mouth to the smooth pale skin of his neck, biting gently then harder as Elijah's back bows and moving lower. Licks down, glides over delicate bones, flattens his tongue over a hard nipple, slow lick down, quick flick up. Elijah groans, grinding against Karl's lap. Karl glances up, smiles. Elijah's head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth open, weight supported by only Karl's hand behind his back. Karl bites down hard and Elijah cries out, writhes against him.

Karl drops him back onto the bed, and slides out from under his legs. Elijah whimpers at the loss of contact, fingers clutching at Karl's hands as he pulls his t-shirt off. He bats Elijah's hands away gently as he pops open the buttons on his jeans and crawls out of them, kicking them to the floor. He lowers himself onto Elijah, sliding a thigh between Elijah's flannel covered legs, grinding his cock against Elijah's hip.

He draws his fingers down Elijah's chest, tracing his ribs, circling his navel, moving down, grazing against Elijah's own hardness with the tips of his fingers. Elijah cries out, twisting beneath him, trying to come in contact with more of Karl, any part of Karl.

Karl leans in, tracing the shell of Elijah's ear with the tip of his tongue, drifting his fingers back up Elijah's chest, grasping a nipple between thumb and finger and giving a sharp twist. He muffles Elijah's shout with mouth, thrusting his tongue inside, plunging, taking. Elijah's fingernails scrabble for purchase on the skin of Karl's back, Elijah straining to grind himself against Karl. Karl continues his torture of Elijah's mouth and nipples, rubbing the length of his cock against Elijah's sharp hipbone, creating a maddening friction against the soft fabric.

Elijah tears his mouth from Karl's, gasping. "Please. Oh God, Karl, please..."

Karl kisses him again, this time slowly, sweetly, his fingers moving slowly downward once again, skimming over the thin line of hair. He covers Elijah's straining erection with his palm and flexes his fingers once tightly before reaching up to grasp the top of the pants, jerking them down to Elijah's knees.

Karl's amazed he's been able to control himself this long, the sight of Elijah underneath him, straining up against him, begging, enough to drive him mad. But he knows that this is special. He knows that Elijah likes things the other way around and doesn't know if he'll ever get to do this again. Intends to do it right.

He pushes the pajamas away from Elijah's feet, pinning one of Elijah's ankles with his foot and spreading his legs. Returns his attention to Elijah's neck, licking, biting, doing whatever he can to elicit any response from Elijah. He wants Elijah to remember this. Wants Elijah to remember him the way he can't forget Elijah.

His mouth continues its southward journey, dampening every plane and crevice of Elijah's neck and torso and he moves his hand back to Elijah's cock, grasping, sliding along, alternating quick hard strokes with slow languid ones. And Elijah's head is thrown back against the blanket again, his hips straining upwards, trying to create a more even rhythm, and Karl gives in, just for a moment, stroking faster and harder. His own hips pick up the rhythm and he's fucking Elijah's hip, the friction against Elijah's skin almost too much to bear. He stops abruptly and Elijah cries out in frustration.

"Fuck, Karl. Are you trying to torture me?"

"Yes."

Elijah struggles against Karl, trying to move out from underneath him, trying to gain some control, but Karl pushes him down, one broad palm flat against his chest, presses him against the bed. He brings his other hand up to Elijah's face, tracing his lips with one long finger. Elijah's tongue darts out, swiping along the proffered finger, circling around the tip. Karl's cock jumps in response. He pushes the finger further into Elijah's mouth, skating along his tongue. His eyes close and he revels in the sensation, enjoying the velvet wetness, sliding in and out. Opens his eyes, catches Elijah staring at him, looking positively wicked.

Pulls the finger out, scraping along small sharp teeth, replaces it with his tongue. Slides his hand down Elijah's body, brushing over his slick cock and under, pressing in without warning. And Elijah bucks, a hoarse cry filling Karl's mouth. Karl groans, almost undone by the -oh- incredible tightness. Karl lifts his head, Elijah's wide eyes filling his view. He moves his finger slowly, twisting, pushing. Elijah's breath coming in quick hard pants. Karl slides his finger back, adds a second and presses in again.

"Oh God Karl." Elijah strains against the hand holding him down. Pulling away and trying to push down at the same time, he's making panicky little pleasure sounds.

Karl moves his fingers, curling, scissoring, trying to stretch against the unresisting tightness. Elijah writhes, his fingers dig into Karl's neck, his hip. _fuck he's so tight_ "Elijah, hasn't Orli...?"

"No," he gasps. "Never." _Christ_. Karl didn't think he could get any harder but just hearing those words makes his dick feel like it could shatter any second. There's no way he can wait any longer. "Karl. You. Please. Oh. Now."

Now. Karl slides his fingers out one last time, adding a third, thrusting them back inside. Elijah convulses beneath him, no words now, just a steady litany of small needy sounds. Karl reaches for the bedside table, grabs the lotion and packet waiting there, crushes his mouth to Elijah's as he slides his fingers out. Elijah wraps one small hand around his neck, feels like he's trying to  
climb inside Karl, the other hand circles Karl's cock, with a demanding squeeze. Karl's vision goes sparkly black at the edges, and he pushes away from Elijah with one hand, the other already moving Elijah's knees apart. Tears open foil, eases into latex. Just the touch of his own hand covered in lotion, with the sight of Elijah lying in front of him, open, wanting, is almost too much. He reaches towards Elijah with one lubed hand, but Elijah shakes his head wildly. "No. You. I need you inside."

He doesn't have to ask again. Karl reaches for his hips, draws him roughly towards him across the blanket, folds one of Elijah's legs up to his shoulder, pushes, stretches. Bumps the head of his cock against Elijah's tight opening and pushes and -oh so tight- the resistance almost more than he can bear. Elijah's head is thrown back, mouth open, throat working, but no sound. Karl tightens his grip on Elijah's hips and pullspushes -god- sheathing himself in Elijah. He feels the blood pound in his ears, sees it at the edges of his vision, waits, can't move, a single move enough to drive him over the edge. The tightness is pure amazing agony.

He waits. Waits until Elijah looks at him, eyes wide, glazed, mouth open, gasping. Waits until Elijah's eyes meet his and slides out, almost all the way out, and quickfast slams back in. His name is ripped from Elijah's lips in a hoarse scream and he can't wait any more. He pushes Elijah's other leg up and slides out in out in driving himself into Elijah. Elijah who's fisting the blankets. Elijah who's wrapped around him so hot and tight. Elijah who lets him -only him- fuck him this way.

He wraps long fingers around Elijah's hardness and with only one two quick jerks, Elijah comes, hard against Karl's stomach and the clenching spasms surround Karl, overwhelm Karl and he surrenders, filling Elijah with one final thrust, crying out as his body releases. Collapses against a still shuddering Elijah, slides his legs down and buries his face in the slick warm space between Elijah's neck and shoulder. Elijah wraps his arms around Karl's neck, his legs still around his waist, holding Karl inside him. And as Karl's erratic breathing slows, he hears a soft whisper, a soft chant, Elijah murmuring into his hair over and over. "Karl."

***

Sitting in their usual booth at the local pub with his arm casually slung around Elijah's shoulder and Elijah leaning back against his chest, Karl feels the happiest he has in a very long time.

Things might have started out roughly but this last month has been simply amazing and he's forced to admit that he's fallen in love with Elijah. Not that he's told him. Not yet anyway. He's thought about telling him. Rehearsed it over and over in his mind. But he can't seem to come out and say it. And Elijah hasn't said anything either so maybe it's better to leave well enough alone and just enjoy what they have.

That said, he finds himself waking in the middle of the night wondering what will happen to them when all this is over. Will Elijah go back to the States, forget all about him? Would he consider staying here? Would he want Karl to go with him?

And _Christ_, Karl thinks, _I sounds like I want to fucking marry the guy_.

He rakes his free hand through his hair before draining his glass. Holds it up to the waitress, signalling he'd like another pint. Glances back across the table to see Orli staring at Elijah. And barely a second passes before Orli is locking eyes with him. Smiling and looking at him with that fuck-you challenge in his eyes. And Karl stares back, refusing to break his gaze.

Orli hasn't said anything to anyone as far as he knows. Has certainly never said anything to Karl. But this happens every single time they are all out together. At one point or another in the evening. And the look in Orli's eyes is one that says he can have Elijah back any time he wants. That Karl is only borrowing him. Has been _let_ have him. And it's a look that makes Karl want to pound Orli into the floor.

And as always, it's Orli who looks away first, always with a small smile meant to tell Karl that he's doing so because he chooses to do so. Not out of fear. Not out of weakness. But because he's got the upper hand and he knows it.

That done, Karl feels free to look around the rest of the table. And shit. Just in time to catch the other albatross staring at him.

Dave.

Who still hasn't stopped pining for Karl despite Elijah. And Karl thinks he should feel bad. Dave's only looking at him the way Karl used to look at Elijah. But there's a big difference. Karl actually had a chance with Elijah. And maybe it's the fact that he acts so long-suffering and that everyone knows about his crush on Karl, but he finds it hard to muster much sympathy for him. Finds himself avoiding Dave as much as he can these days.

"What are you thinking about?" Elijah says, his voice dragging Karl back to the surface. He's staring up at him with that look, the one that always threatens to have him on his knees, on his back, in a matter of seconds. Makes Karl hard just looking at him. And Karl wonders if that will ever change.

"Nothing," he says. "Everything." Whispers in Elijah's ear. "Orli and Dave staring."

Elijah looks across the table, shakes his head, tilts his head back up to Karl's ear. "Jealous. Both of them."

"I know."

"Dave of me and Orli of you."

Karl smiles.

"Why don't we give them something to be jealous about?" Elijah says, reaching a hand up to the back of Karl's head and pulling him down for a kiss. An all-consuming, completely ravenous, no holds-barred kind of kiss that has everyone at the table open-mouthed and staring when they finish.

Karl blushes.

Elijah laughs. "Sorry, guys."

Viggo raises his glass to them and Sean shakes his head.

Orli smirks.

Dave looks away.

And Craig says, "Get a fucking room." Pauses, before continuing with a full-on leer. "Unless you want to share."

Everyone cracks up. Except Dave.

***

Later the same evening and everyone's spread out. More of the cast and crew have joined them at the pub and the booth has become home base for those wandering around the room. Karl's been talking with Sean -- sports -- and Viggo -- the whole Hollywood scene -- for the last hour. Keeping an ear open to Craig making positively obscene comments in response to everything anyone says. Haldir's had way too many tonight but every single thing that comes out of his mouth is so fucking funny that no one minds. And Viggo's agreed to make sure he gets home okay.

Karl's lost track of Elijah somewhere along the way. At one point he was playing pool with the other hobbits but a glance over at the tables has Billy and Dom playing by themselves. No sign of Elijah. No sign of Orli either.

He really needs to take a piss though. Clear his head. Then find Elijah. Shoulders through the crowd to the back of the pub and pushes open the bathroom door.

And of course.

He should have fucking known.

Elijah.

Orli.

Standing there together.

Barely a foot apart.

Bodies turned towards each other.

Hands on their own zippers.

But still.

"Hey, Karl," Orli says. Elijah just smiles.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean?" Elijah asks. And Karl knows he can switch that oh-so-innocent look on and off at will.

"Why are you in here with Orli?" he says, trying to stay calm. "That's what I mean."

And Orli breaks into a grin, licks his lips and chuckles softly. "This should be good."

"Fuck you," Karl says.

"I wouldn't mind at all," Orli snaps back. "Of course, Elijah might."

"What is wrong with both of you?" Elijah says, looking from Karl to Orli and back again. "Karl, we were both taking a piss. Nothing's going on. And Orli. Stop baiting Karl."

"I don't believe you," Karl says. And there, it's out. The truth is out and he can't take it back. Sees the words leave a mark on Elijah's face as visible as any actual blow.

"Then fuck you," Elijah says, tears welling. He pushes past Karl and is out the door in seconds.

"Way to go, Karl," Orli says, smirking.

"Oh? And like you're one to talk," Karl says.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I saw the bruises you left on him that night he came to my house," Karl says. "How many other times did you hurt him like that?"

Orli smiles. "Don't be stupid. Elijah asks for it."

"No one asks for that," Karl says, pointedly.

"Elijah does," Orli says. "Elijah likes to be hurt. Or haven't you found that out yet?"

"You're lying," Karl says, but with this dreadful feeling that he's not.

"Ask him," Orli says. "He'll tell you the truth if you ask him."

Karl shakes his head, turns and opens the door to leave, Orli's voice following him.

"Ask him," he repeats. "I dare you."

***

Elijah's standing by the booth talking to Viggo who has his hand on the younger man's shoulder, obviously comforting him. Karl takes a deep breath and walks up to them.

"I need to talk to you," he says to Elijah.

"Fuck you," Elijah says with his back turned. "I don't need to hear any more of your accusations."

"Elijah..." Karl says, feeling so very tired.

"What?" And he still won't look at him.

"Never mind," Karl says. "I give up." And he walks away.

***

Outside the night air is crisp and the sky is filled with stars. It's a beautiful night but Karl barely notices. Just wants to go the fuck home. Can't believe that little more than two hours ago he was thinking how happy he was.

And he's opening the door to his car when someone grabs him by the shoulder, turning him and pressing him up against the door. Elijah.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't mean to give you reason to doubt me."

And it's too hard to stay angry. Karl pulls Elijah close, hugging him tight. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have been so quick to accuse you."

Elijah looks up at him. "I didn't think about what it looked like. Viggo pointed out to me that he might have thought the same thing if he'd found us like that."

Well then, thank god for Viggo.

"I feel like such a jerk," Karl says. "I saw you standing there with Orli and all I could think was--"

"I know. I know what you thought. But we weren't. I swear."

"I believe you."

"Now you do when you're thinking rationally but there must be some part of you that really doesn't trust me or you wouldn't have said what you did in there."

"That's not true, Elijah."

"And now I don't believe you."

"So what do we do?" Karl asks.

"We make a pact that you will trust me and I won't give you any more reasons not to."

"I think I can do that. Anything else?"

"Well, I think we need to go home and fuck each other senseless to seal the pact."

Karl smiles. "I think we can manage that as well."

***

Karl parks the car in the driveway and gets out, walking around the back and heading for the house but Elijah stops him in front of the trunk, pressing close and kissing him, sliding his hand along Karl's fly.

"Elijah..." Karl protests.

"What?" Elijah says, teasingly.

"Not out here."

"Why not?" Elijah asks, using his body to manoeuvre Karl so he's sandwiched between Elijah and the car.

"Someone will see."

"No, they won't," Elijah says, turning Karl around and pushing him firmly down onto the trunk.

"Elijah, I--"

"Shh," Elijah says. "No one will see. It's late. It's dark. There's no one to see."

And there's a lump in Karl's throat. It could be fear. It could be anticipation. He's not quite sure which. Either way it has him hard as hell. "We don't have anything."

"I have a condom," Elijah says, taking a foil wrapper from his back pocket and waving it in front of Karl's face.

"But we don't--"

"Shh," Elijah says again, deftly unbuttoning Karl's jeans and pulling them down over his arse. Running one damp finger up and down his cleft before shoving it into him, curving and stroking that spot -oh fuck- that spot, Karl urgently moving against his hand as Elijah slips another finger into him, brushing and stroking, scissoring and stretching, adding yet another, shoving them hard into his body. And Karl is moaning, whimpering, writhing against the trunk and he doesn't care if anyone sees them. Just wants Elijah to take him, hard, right here, right now.

And -oh god- Elijah's kneeling on the ground between his legs, nudging his face between Karl's cheeks, using his tongue to swipe broad strokes up and down his cleft before circling around his opening, dipping in and out, just slightly, in and out. Nice and slow. And again before pushing his tongue deep and still deeper. Again and again. Faster. Harder. And he's tongue-fucking Karl's hole. Stabbing into him. Making Karl shake and shudder, unconvinced his legs will hold him, rubbing his face against the trunk, white-knuckled hands clenching the sides of the car as he offers himself up to whatever Elijah wants.

And then Elijah's standing, condom already in place, sliding into Karl in one smooth liquid move, filling him, stretching him, slowly, gently, oh-so-slowly and oh-so-gently and Karl pushes back, needing him to know, to sense, that slow is not what he wants, gentle is not what he needs, that slow and gentle are the very last things on this earth he desires. And Elijah does. Rams his cock in hard and deep

-oh fuck-

"Is that what you want?" Elijah asks, pulling out to the head

and waiting

"Is that what you want?"

and Karl's silent, not wanting to say it, still finding it so hard to admit

"I'm waiting."

and he is

"Yes," Karl says, softly.

"Tell me," Elijah says.

Karl shakes his head.

And Elijah thrusts brutally deep, wrenching a yelp from Karl's throat before pulling back out.

"Tell me."

"Fuck me."

"Not good enough," he says, rotating his hips, dipping in and out, just teasing

"Fuck me hard. Please, Elijah."

"You want me to fuck you?" Elijah asks. "Fuck you hard. Fuck your ass until you scream. Ram my cock into your oh-so-fucking-tight hole. Is that what you want?"

And Karl can't take it. "Yes, oh god, yes."

And still

"Please..."

Elijah relents, plunging deep and hard, fucking Karl rough and nasty, just the way he wants it, sliding a hand around to Karl's cock, stroking him in time to every deep brutal thrust and Karl feels like he's stopped breathing. Is waiting. Just waiting. His body shudders as Elijah changes angle and glances across that spot, again and again, each thrust proving true. And on the next thrust, Elijah slides a thumb against his cock, shoving both deep into Karl and Karl roars, comes spurting hard and heavy into Elijah's hand, against the trunk, his legs finally giving way and he's not sure Elijah can hold him, but he does, bends his legs and thrusts upwards, once twice and again, before groaning and coming hard into Karl. Collapsing against his back, chuckling against his cheek and kissing him.

***

"Where's he now?"

"Asleep."

"You wore him out, did you?"

"Maybe..."

"Spill, you wanker. Did you make up?"

"Yeah. Once on the trunk of the car and a second time up against the living room wall."

"Fun."

"Definitely. And he's still so fucking tight. You wouldn't believe it."

"You keep talking about it and I'm going to insist on having a try."

"God, wouldn't that be fun."

"Hey, you're the one who said you could get him to do anything."

"I can."

"I don't know. I'm not sure you're _that_ good."

"Am too. He believed me, didn't he?"

"Close call though. Fifteen seconds earlier..."

"I know."

"And this probably isn't the best idea. What would you say if he woke up?"

"Homesick. Talking to my mom."

"You're a shit."

"So? You love me anyway."

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, then. Tomorrow, asshole."

"Tomorrow, wanker."


End file.
